The Interview
by GoodShipSherlollipop
Summary: Sherlock and his pregnant wife, Molly, travel to America to be guests on a late night talk show. But the host doesn't want to hear about his crime-solving. Sherlolly one-shot.


"Molly, remind me why I agreed to do this nonsense," said Sherlock, pacing the Los Angeles hotel room and running a hand through his dark, curly hair.

"We agreed the extra money will come in handy once the baby comes," replied his obviously pregnant wife, who was perched on the edge of the bed watching him pace.

They were waiting for a phone call to let them know a car had arrived to take them to the studio where they (well, mostly Sherlock) were being interviewed for a late night talk show.

Three months earlier Sherlock had solved a case, breaking up an international drug syndicate. The drug lords who were based in London had been planning to bring a highly addictive drug to the black market in America. If their notorious plan had succeeded, the new drug would have flooded the market and led to a potentially enormous loss of life due to the long term effects of the toxins contained within it.

The detective had successfully discovered the location of the syndicate's headquarters just outside of London. That led to many arrests in both London and America of drug lords who were now awaiting trial for their crimes. The streets of both countries were safer as a result.

As soon as the threat to both England and the United States had been exposed and dealt with, reporters from America had flocked to London to talk with the consulting detective about how he had exposed the criminals, and a new international celebrity was born. His face was splashed all over the major newspapers in America and televised reports were shown of the detective discussing the case.

Sherlock absolutely hated the attention. He had never intended to take credit for what he had done, but Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade had been so proud of Sherlock's work in conjunction with New Scotland Yard that he had given the most credit, and justly so, to the sleuth.

The resulting fame for Sherlock had been impressive indeed. Not only had his email through John's blog become so inundated with fan mail that he couldn't sort through them fast enough to find an actual request for help with a case, but his location at 221B Baker Street had been revealed to the public overseas.

As a result, his home mailbox was flooded with fan mail to the point where Mrs. Hudson was threatening to increase his rent because she was the one who always had to sort through the mail to find anything addressed to her. She complained that the constant perfumes of the scented envelopes he at times received were irritating her delicate nostrils and making her allergies play up.

There had also been several packages that had come in the mail addressed to the consulting detective. Most notably was one from a woman living in New Mexico.

"What's this?" he asked aloud as Molly observed him one day with his latest batch of mail. Sherlock always opened any parcels or mail in his wife's presence and insisted on her reading them out to him. He had no desire to read the letters himself, and he did not want to keep any secrets from the woman he loved.

Molly took great delight in reading to him the fan letters, some of which contained rather indiscreet comments from women who had developed a crush on him and apparently didn't know or didn't care in the least that he was a married man.

Sherlock cringed when Molly read those letters out to him, and he insisted she tear them up immediately afterwards to put in the rubbish bin.

One this one occasion though, he opened the package from New Mexico and held up, of all things, a pair of bright pink knickers.

Molly hooted with laughter as the detective immediately dropped them in disgust onto the table as if he had been holding a hot potato. She peered at the frilly undergarment and commented,"Well, honey, at least the knickers are new."

Sherlock was not amused. "Why can't people just leave us alone?" he complained.

His wife shrugged. "That's the price of fame. You give up your private life, at least to some extent."

"I just don't understand it though," he countered. I've made no secret of the fact that I am a happily married man." He walked over to Molly and kissed her tenderly. "An extremely happily married man."

When the offer had come in a month earlier for Sherlock to appear on a well known late night talk show in America, and they had offered a sizable appearance fee, the detective had initially refused. He had explained that he did not want to be absent from his pregnant wife for any period of time.

The studio's response had been to offer him double the appearance fee if he would come with Molly and allow her to be interviewed as well with him. Of course first class flights to Los Angeles and a week's accommodation at a luxury hotel would be included.

The detective and his wife had discussed it for some time, weighing up whether it would be worthwhile for them to travel to another country when Molly was almost seven months pregnant. In the end, it had been a comment of Mrs. Hudson's, who had been consulted for her opinion, that settled the matter.

"You should go," the elderly woman remarked. "Neither of you has been to America and once the baby comes international travel becomes much more difficult. Nothing worse than screaming babies and children on a plane."

So the pair had made the decision to go and enjoy a respite from the dreary London late winter and experience a somewhat warmer climate for a week.

"It will be like a second honeymoon for us," Molly told her husband.

Sherlock gave his wife a lingering kiss. "Sweetheart, every day with you is a honeymoon to me," he informed her with a twinkle in his eye, patting her rounded abdomen. A little flutter pushed at his hand as if the baby agreed.

So here they were in Los Angeles. The five star hotel was certainly luxurious, and it had a similarly rated restaurant where the couple had eaten a very nice, expensive dinner, which was also being paid for by the studio. All their hotel expenses were similarly being covered.

Finally, just as it seemed Sherlock was going to wear a hole in the plush carpet from his endless pacing, the phone rang.

Molly picked up the receiver and listened for a few moments then replaced the headset on the receiver.

"The car's downstairs, out the front," she informed her husband.

As the car made its way through the streets of Los Angeles towards their destination, the detective sat back in his seat, looking anxious.

Molly, always attuned to his moods asked, "Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"I'm a little nervous," he confessed, a little sheepishly. "I've done countless interviews over the years, but never anything like this. What if Jimmy asks me something about a case and I don't know how to answer without sounding like a completely arrogant git?"

"You'll do fine. Besides, from what I've watched of these talk shows on the telly, a lot of the time they ask anything but what you do in your job."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find out." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry, honey. I'll be here with you to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Sherlock nodded and they rode the rest of the way in companionable silence with him holding her hand a little tighter than usual.

At the studio, the couple was shown to an area where they had makeup applied.

"Is this really necessary?" grumbled the detective.

"Everyone has to wear makeup on TV," the makeup artist informed him. "You don't want to look washed out on camera, do you?" She finished applying the base and then applied loose powder with a brush saying, "We use the powder so your face doesn't look shiny on camera. That way, if you have a tendency to sweat, it will also help prevent it from becoming obvious."

"I am extremely grateful to be a man, now I know what women have to go through putting on all this gunk."

His makeup artist giggled. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, there are many women out there who are also extremely grateful you are a man."

Molly, who was getting her makeup applied in the chair next to his and thoroughly enjoying the pampering experience of not doing it herself, laughed.

"Honey, you are gonna make those women in the audience drool. Just remember, you're a married man."

Sherlock looked over at the woman carrying his child and smiled lazily. "You know I've only ever had eyes for you."

Both Molly's and Sherlock's makeup artists sighed. Sherlock's helper commented, "I'd give a million bucks to find a romantic hero like that."

Before long, it was time for the Holmes couple to be introduced.

They walked onto the soundstage and were greeted by their host Jimmy, who said, "Here today with me we have, all the way from London, the famous consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes and his lovely wife, Molly."

The audience applauded and there were several cheers and whistles from the crowd with a couple of excited screams thrown in for good measure.

The couple seated themselves and their host began to talk.

"So, Sherlock, you've become quite the celebrity here recently since you stopped those criminals from bringing their new, potentially fatal drugs to the States. How have you coped with this celebrity status?"

Sherlock was a little nonplussed. He had been expecting a question about how he had made his deductions on the case. Apparently this interview was to be of a more personal nature.

"Well, um, yes, it has been somewhat challenging. I have been finding it difficult of late to find cases among the many missives I receive, because most of them are fan mail."

"And you should see some of those letters," interposed Molly with a grin.

"Oh really? Care to elaborate?" asked the talk show host, detecting an opportunity to discover a little more about the sleuth's personal life from his wife who seemed much more comfortable being here than her husband did.

Sherlock watched Molly with interest as she basically took over the interview. She sparkled with enthusiasm and was not shy at all. It was remarkable how his woman had lost her shyness since they had been together. She had been such a nervous little mouse when they met, but now she was confident and outgoing.

He knew that their love had been the catalyst for the change. It had become even more apparent since she had become pregnant with their first child, hopefully the first of several. She positively glowed.

Now she said, "Oh yes, you wouldn't believe the amount of actual handwritten letters Sherlock receives from lovelorn women. Many of them have been scented with perfume as well."

"Doesn't it ever worry you that so many women have crushes on your husband?" asked Jimmy.

"Not at all," she replied with a soft smile. "My husband is the most devoted man on this earth. He's every woman's dream, but he's my reality."

At those words, Sherlock blushed and several women in the audience gave loud sighs.

Jimmy pressed on. "So have you received anything special in the mail from a fan?"

Molly was the one to answer again, while Sherlock sat further down in his chair, feeling mortified.

"Well, he did receive a pair of knickers in the mail last month," she informed Jimmy. There were gasps of astonishment from the studio, followed by laughter as she added, "Fortunately, they were unused."

Jimmy leaned over towards Sherlock and said cheerily, "It seems your wife has quite the sense of humour."

"Definitely more than I do; those knickers were disgusting," he said, and the audience tittered again.

"Well Sherlock, it appears you have been busy doing other things besides opening fan mail and solving crimes," said Jimmy with a smile. "It looks like you have a little one on the way."

"We certainly do," said Molly, rubbing her protruding belly contentedly.

"Do you know if you are having a boy or girl?"

Molly looked over to Sherlock to answer. He complied, brightening a bit at the thought of the upcoming blessed event, "We do, but we aren't telling," he said, looking back at his wife with a tender expression on his face.

"Fair enough, and now onto other things," said Jimmy. "We conducted a survey recently called, 'Why is Sherlock Holmes so hot?'"

At this, Sherlock cringed and Molly giggled.

"So, Molly, in your opinion, what do you think other women find most attractive about your husband?"

"Oh, that's easy," replied Molly confidently. "He has incredible eyes, wonderful aristocratic cheekbones and eminently kissable lips," here she winked at the audience, who laughed, "but I'm going to say it's his gorgeous dark curly hair, because I confess, I'm a little obsessed about it myself."

"Well, let's take a look at the results."

A large view screen behind them showed the poll results. Over 50% had voted his hair as being the hottest part of the detective. In a distant second place with 18% of the vote was his lips, followed by 15% for his baritone voice. His eyes received 10% of the votes as did his cheekbones, and the other 7% was made up of various things like his hands and his Belstaff coat.

The audience roared with laughter when Molly giggled and pointed out to her thoroughly embarrassed husband, "Your coat even got some votes!"

Several women also cheered when the pathologist turned to the audience and said, "Don't worry, ladies. I've told Sherlock he is not allowed to cut off his curls, so he'll stay hot for you and me." She turned and winked at the totally discombobulated sleuth.

He had never seen his wife act so alive, so carefree. It was mesmerizing, and it was also sexy as all get out. He really wished the interview were over so he could get his wife back to the hotel and tell her how hot he found her to be and demonstrate those feelings with actions.

It seemed like forever, but finally Sherlock's silent wish was granted and the interview, if you could call it that, ended.

After they left the stage together, Sherlock pulled his wife into his arms, not caring if anyone was watching.

"You were amazing," he said, kissing her deeply. "How on earth did you know exactly how to entertain the audience like that?"

"Oh Sherlock, I've watched a few talk shows in my time and I've observed, rather than just seen. I knew it was going to be all talk about you and your fame, rather than your work. That's what entertainment is. So I gave them what they wanted."

"Mmm," whispered her husband with a look on his face that made her blush, "I hope you'll be giving me what I want when we get back to the hotel."

Giving him a sensual kiss that was a taste of things to come, she replied, "Always, my love, always."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

This is my first one-shot. As I am planning on having my other story go through the entire wedding planning process and beyond it is a lengthy project.

I am obsessed with Sherlock's hair. As I say to everybody, it is his hair that makes him hot. (Note my profile pic which is my singularly favourite one of him from "The Empty Hearse.") So I thought it would be fun to place him in a setting in my adopted country of America, where I could have a little fun in discussing his hair. I also wanted to do it at a future point where he and Molly are happily settled and expecting their first baby, seeing as it is going to take forever for my other story to get to that point!

I hope you like my very first one-shot and please do read/review/favourite if you enjoy the experience. It will encourage me to keep writing.

By the way, my beta reader daughter was grossed out by the innuendo in this but I did explain "hey, they're married" LOL

UPDATE: will be adding a chapter to this soon -Feb. 2018


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